


Three Broomsticks to the Wind

by Kiraly



Series: HogwartSSSS AU [2]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Alcohol, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Emotional Wizard Emotions, Fluff, M/M, Misunderstandings, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-22
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2020-10-26 09:47:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20740217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: Onni and Reynir visit Hogsmeade for the first time. They get drinks with a side of miscommunication.





	Three Broomsticks to the Wind

**Author's Note:**

> One of this week's Synchronised Screaming prompts was "Onni/Reynir - Emotional Wizard Emotions". Even though I told myself I wasn't going to do a prompt (since I have a whole AU to finish writing, among other things) this one caught me and wouldn't let me go. Hopefully folks don't mind another little vignette for this series!
> 
> Set at the beginning of Reynir's third year, so chronologically it falls between _Flying Lessons_ and _Owl Post_.

“I can’t believe we’re here!”

“I can’t  _ believe  _ we’re here.”

Reynir turned to look at Onni. “What do you mean?” He’d been hearing about the wonders of Hogsmeade for the past two years, and now he was finally old enough to go. It was exciting! They’d visited the joke shop and spent nearly an hour in Honeydukes buying candy. So why was Onni frowning?

“I just...are you  _ sure  _ you want to do this?” Onni directed an anxious look at the sign over the door.  _ The Three Broomsticks.  _ “I don’t think Grandma approves of pubs.”

“She doesn’t approve of Hogwarts either, but here you are,” Reynir pointed out. His parents sometimes went down the road for a drink, and he knew his oldest siblings did too. They’d never taken  _ him  _ along, but Onni didn’t need to know that. “And everyone talks about coming here, Onni! It’s part of the Hogsmeade experience. You don’t want me to miss that, do you?” Reynir didn’t want Onni to miss it either; even though Onni had been old enough to visit the village last year, he never had. 

Onni shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I...guess not.” 

“Great! Let’s go.” Reynir caught Onni’s hand, pushed the door open, and went inside, pulling Onni after him.

It was crowded inside, mostly with other Hogwarts students. A lot of them were older—even Reynir, who was tall for his age, had trouble seeing over their heads. He did spot a few other third years though, and they all looked as thrilled and overwhelmed as he felt. “I hope we can find a seat,” he said. “Maybe we should get drinks and then—”

“Look who it is! Freckles and Mister Grumpy!” Sigrun appeared out of the crowd. She had a mug in each hand and a huge grin on her face. “Come sit with us!”

Onni’s eyes widened. “Um. No thanks, we’ll just—” 

Sigrun acted like she hadn’t heard him. “Come on you lot, make a space—great. Madsen, get these two some butterbeer, would you?” She elbowed people out of the way, occasionally sloshing some of her drinks in her enthusiasm. Some of it splashed onto Reynir’s hair when she pushed him and Onni onto a bench. “He’s buying,” Sigrun said, as Mikkel returned with two foaming mugs, “Lost a bet. Drink up!” With that, she melted back into the crowd.

“Your drinks,” Mikkel grunted, setting them on the table. “Take it easy, don’t let it go to your head.”

“Thanks?” Reynir said. But Mikkel was already gone. “Oh, see you later I guess.” He picked up the mug and sniffed it. It didn’t  _ smell  _ like the beer his parents sometimes drank. It smelled much nicer, actually, rich and sweet. When he took a cautious sip, it  _ was  _ sweet. The bubbles tickled his nose, but it was so creamy and delicious that he immediately took another gulp. “Wow! Onni, you have to try this!”

Onni eyed his glass like it held a poisonous snake. Then he sighed, squared his shoulders, and lifted the drink to his lips. Reynir could see the precise moment the taste hit him; Onni’s eyebrows rose almost to his hairline. “Oh!”

“It’s good, right?” Reynir didn’t understand why people said it was an ‘acquired taste’ that only adults could appreciate it. Maybe it was the magic? He could already feel it warming him up. 

It seemed to be doing Onni good, too. He’d already downed half his glass, and a smile was tugging at the corners of his mouth. For Onni, that was practically a grin. “Yeah, it’s good.” He leaned into Reynir—or maybe he was leaning away from the person on his other side, but the effect was the same. “I get it now. Why people come here to drink this. Even though it means dealing with...everything.” He gestured at the crowd with his free hand.

“What, all the people?” Whatever the reason, Onni was still pressed against his side, so Reynir bumped their shoulders together. “I kinda like it. Everyone’s having a nice time.”

“Everyone, huh?” Onni raised an eyebrow. 

“Oh, you are too, don’t pretend you’re not!” Reynir pulled Onni into a one-armed hug. “You’re smiling!”

“No I’m not!” But he was, even if he tried to hide it in his butterbeer. 

“You really like that stuff.”

“Mmm.”

“And you’re having fun.”

“I’m—!” Onni shook his head. “Not like  _ that.”  _ He nodded toward the other side of the room, where Sigrun was standing on a chair and teaching some of the other third years a Quidditch chant. “Not  _ because  _ of that.” He drained the last of his butterbeer and pushed the glass away. 

“I don’t think anyone has fun quite like Sigrun,” Reynir admitted. “But I’m glad you cheered up.” He still wondered why this place was allowed to serve beer—even if it was magical beer—to thirteen-year-olds. Obviously it put people in a good mood. If it could make Onni smile, it could make anyone smile.

“Hmph.” Onni stretched and worked his way out of the bench. “I’m going to get another round, do you want one?”

Reynir looked at his half-full glass, then at Onni. The drink wasn’t hitting him too hard yet, but he’d been taking it slow. “Shouldn’t we pace ourselves?”

“What?”

“I mean...maybe you’re more used to it, but I’m not allowed to drink at home. I haven’t had this before so I don’t know how it’ll affect me.”

Onni narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t had...butterbeer before.”

“Right. Or any beer, really.”

“Or any— _ Reynir.  _ What exactly do you think is in butterbeer?”

What had he said? Onni looked upset now. Maybe this was what happened with drinking. First you got happy, then angry. “Um. Well beer, obviously. And...butter…?” Even as he said it, it didn’t sound right.

Onni sighed. “No, it does not—ugh!” The table next to theirs erupted in loud cheers. Onni flinched away and grabbed Reynir’s arm. “Come on, we’re getting out of here.”

“What? But I thought you wanted—”

_ “Please.”  _

Reynir allowed himself to be pulled away. Onni didn’t stop until they were outside, halfway down the path back to the castle. 

“Onni? Are you okay?”

The tension in Onni’s shoulders visibly relaxed. “Better now.”

Reynir carefully removed his arm from Onni’s grip and stood in front of him. “What happened? Was it the alcohol, or—?”

Onni stared at him. Then he laughed—a weak, shaky thing, but a laugh nonetheless. “Reynir, butterbeer doesn’t  _ have  _ any alcohol in it. It’s just...a drink. Did you really think someone mixed butter and beer together?”

Now it was Reynir’s turn to stare. “What? But I thought—” He closed his mouth on the rest of the sentence. He’d had a lot of thoughts, but he hadn’t really been thinking. “Then why did you get so happy in there? You were miserable before we went in.”

“I wasn’t  _ miserable.”  _ Onni looked at the ground and scuffed his shoe on the path. “I just didn’t want to go. I knew it would be loud and crowded and I wouldn’t know anyone.”

“But we go to school with almost everyone in there!” Reynir shook his head. “Sigrun found us seats, and Mikkel got us drinks. You know them.”

Onni laughed again. “Right. Although I think I would have preferred it without Sigrun’s ‘help’. There were probably quieter tables.” He shrugged. “I was having a nice time though. For a while.”

“Why?”

“Because I like sweets? You know that.” Reynir did. The hour in Honeydukes had mostly been Onni’s doing. “And because...I was with you.” Onni raised his eyes to meet Reynir’s. He looked almost...shy. “Even a crowd is okay, with you there. But then you started talking about beer and I couldn’t hear myself think enough to explain it to you.” 

Reynir nodded. He should have realized. Onni was the kind of person who liked small groups the best. “I’m sorry.”

Onni snorted. “I don’t know why  _ you’re  _ sorry. I’m the one who stormed out before you could finish your butterbeer.” He looked at the ground again.

Reynir put his arm around Onni’s shoulders. “It’s all right. You can buy me one next time.”

“Next time?” Onni looked up at him, but didn’t pull away.

“Next time,” Reynir said firmly. “And we’ll get a table all to ourselves.”

A glimmer of Onni’s smile came back. “All right.” He put his own arm around Reynir. Together, they walked back to the castle.

**Author's Note:**

> Writing this series is like a big game of "how many ways can I make these idiots misunderstand each other?" and the answer is all of them. Every possible way.
> 
> Originally the idea was for Onni to also believe butterbeer was alcoholic and get placebo-drunk and start having Feelings. But apparently I am not capable of writing Onni like that, soooo this happened instead. XD


End file.
